The First Time
by Society's Failure
Summary: The first time she kisses him, it's not at all what he imagines it would be. A series of "first times" shared by Naruto and Sakura, whether they be good or bad. Rated T for now, mature content soon, NaruSaku college AU. No idea what to put for genre, mreh
1. She Kisses Him

_**NOTE**__: I really don't know where this came from, and it was not meant to be this long BUT OH WELL. It's the first part of a sequence of things, and it'll start to unfold better as to setting and shit later. Basically, it's college AU, and they're prolly about 22 or so. Since it's kinda long and the next part's even more so I'm dividing up each event as I go, because I like quick convenient blurbs more than I do ridiculously long oneshots. Trying a different kind of writing than my usual here, tell me if it works? D; also lolsorry my new Rizzle alert people, this just needed to be written for the sake of my sanity._

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><p><em>The first time she kisses him, it's not at all what he imagines it would be.<em>

They both get invites to the party, and they decide there's nothing better to do on the Friday night, so they go. It doesn't matter that neither he nor Sakura know who or what's it for, just that there's a lot of booze and a lot of people they know. They're young and in college; this is what it's supposed to be about.

They split off early, her group of girlfriends waving her over at the start and the guys hollering for him to start the drinking games. Everybody knew he's the game master. He claims it's the beast inside of him that gives him such a high tolerance; the same one that makes him outwardly aggressive in sports and conflicts. Nobody really gives a damn, except its fucking fun to test. And that's all that matters.

He doesn't know how much time has passed by the time he's drunk. Not nearly as bad as the others, no, but still pretty damn drunk. The shot glasses at the table blur together when he looks at them, and he has no idea if it's just because there's so many, or if it's the amount he's taken in. Which is a lot. Those stupid Never Have I Ever games always get him fucked up. The people around him are also blurry; he doesn't remember who's been there from the start, or who just joined in, or even really what's going on. He just answers questions and takes drinks when they're given to him.

He's not a very smart drunk, if he were to sit back and think about it later.

A hand is on his shoulder then, and he looks over his shoulder so fast he has to grip the edge of the table to keep his world from spinning. When he's finally able to focus on the face hovering there, he offers the roseate a lopsided grin.

"Hey Sakura," he says, with only a bit of a slur. Christ, he knows he should be happy he's not passed out on the floor at this point.

"Naruto, I'm playing Truth or Dare," she tells him, and he nods even though he doesn't really understand. He's still smiling when she comes around to stand in front of him, and she fixates her green gaze on him. 'She's got pretty eyes,' he thinks dully, surprised at how bright she seems to him in contrast with the rest of the room. It's probably the hair that does it.

"Sunshine, they dared me to kiss you. Is that okay?" she asks him, her nickname for him catching his attention more than the question. His buzzing brain took a moment to understand, but when he did, his eyes widened and then narrowed in rapid succession before he laughed.

"That's a lame dare, Sakura-chan. You should play with us, it's more fun," he explains to her, reaching for the closest full drink in his range. But she grabs his hand, and puts it on her waist to get his attention. He frowns, and blinks. If he had been aware, maybe he would have blushed at the look she was giving him, but instead he sat looking dazed.

"What if I think this is fun enough for me?" she questions, her tone low and sultry, almost too low for him to hear. He can't fully comprehend it anyway, but that's beside the point.

"Then you suck at party games," he finally retorts, missing the double meaning she handed to him on a plate. But still she laughs at him, and he laughs with her because that's all he can think to do.

"I'm just going to take that as a yes," she declares, smirking in a way that should have sent him reeling. It really should have. Her hands go to the back of his neck, and he can feel them pulling him forward, demanding he stoop a bit. His hand is still on her waist, and the other instinctively mirrors it. But just as their lips brush when she comes forward, she moves to his ear instead, her hot breath there making him shiver as a slow burn settled low in his stomach. He couldn't tell if it was the alcohol or not, but he was pretty sure all the things he had been drinking didn't feel good like this.

"It's just a dare," she whispers there, and he's not sure why she tells him this. To him, it sounds almost like she's trying to reassure herself, not him. And then the warmth at his ear is gone, and it's on his mouth, and it's all he can do not to groan at the feeling. He uses his hold on her waist to pull them closer together, bodies flush while she stands on her toes to acquiesce him. It's heat and it's instinct but it's not passion or romance, not anything he had pictured for them. But when she opens her mouth against his and slides her tongue along his lip, he allows the intrusion and counters it with his own, a low moan traps itself in his chest, carnal want blazing through system, enhanced by the alcohol.

She tastes sweet and bitter, like cherries and the sharp bite of vodka, and something else he doesn't know how to describe. He lets her control the kiss, the slick heat of her tongue easily beating him into submission, whether it be because of her natural prowess, his inability to sort out his shit and get it together, or just because he lets her since he thinks it's ridiculously sexy when girls do that. Her tongue pulls back, but her teeth tug at his lower lip, hard, enough to make him growl and push her against the edge of the table they're standing near.

It's then that he feels the change in the way she feels against him, and he's pushed back gently but firmly, and then she's behind him. He feels dizzy and disoriented, still caught up in the heat of the moment, and the confusion in his eyes show that. When they meet hers, he sees something he doesn't expect; something akin to surprise and almost anger, as though he had done something wrong. But she's already stepping back from him, and he knows he won't be able to follow. Nor does he really want to.

"Just a dare," she mouths to him as she slips away, and he doesn't understand why it's so significant that she tell him that. He doesn't get girls or what they do. As he turns to lean against the table again and reach for a full shot glass, he decides he doesn't really want to get them. For right now, getting that if he drinks enough of these shots he'll either pass out or black out seems plenty good enough for him.


	2. The Boyfriend

_The first time she gets a boyfriend, it's also the first time he's ever felt the urge to beat the shit out of someone he barely even knows._

"Where you goin'?" he asks her from his spot on the couch, the Xbox remote in his hands as he stares unblinkingly into the screen. He's too focused on his game to direct all of his attention to her, but he can smell her perfume wafting through the apartment from the bathroom. Poor ventilation sucks. He hears her stop riffling through her make-up bag.

"... Out," she replies. He furrows his brow as he makes a Leap of Faith into a haystack to end the mission he is on. _Ezio wins again. _Pausing the game, he turns to look over his shoulder at his roommate. She's staring at her reflection as if she's looking for the tiniest flaw in her face or the slim black dress she has on, and he is struck by how... _Nice_ she looks. He knows she's fashionable and classy on a day to day basis, but there's something else there that's making a difference. It's rude to stare, but he can't help it.

"Out where?" he finally asks, trying to keep his tone light. Sakura looks over, and he can see the indecision on her face; to tell him, or not to tell him. A moment passes, and she raises a brow with a bit of a scowl.

"Somewhere. Now stop being nosy," she retorts, and though it's common for them to have such brusque exchanges, he senses a serious bite beneath her words and it unnerves him. She sweeps a stray hair away from her face, and nods at the mirror before walking into the foyer. His eyes stay glued on her, as if that will help him discern where she's going and why she's being so mysterious about it. But as she grabs her bag and slips on a pair of heels, he can't figure out anything.

"I'll be home late, so don't stay up," she tells him, and he's already turning around and resuming his game, turning up the volume so he can't hear the click of her shoes against the tile of the entryway, or the sound of the door swinging shut behind her.

Even when she's long gone and he's died repeatedly as the Borgia shoot him off of tower walls, Naruto sits on the couch with the remote in his hands, staring numbly at the screen while he once more attempt to scale the aqueduct without really paying attention. His thoughts are elsewhere, and that's obvious enough.

A week had passed since she had kissed him at the party, and still nothing had been said about what had happened. He hadn't pressed it, and she hadn't brought it up—Naruto was loathe to cause problems if he didn't have to, and to him, this was something that could be avoided. This being a conflict.

But as he sits and thinks, he realizes that things are different—it's been a week, and though they haven't talked about the kiss, they haven't talked about much of anything else, either.

Maybe his plan isn't working as well as he thought it would. He turns off his video game and turns onto his side with the TV remote in hand, resolving to stay there until she gets home. He hates how nasty he feels inside because of how things are going, and the only way he can think of to fix it is to talk about it—to confront the problem like he always does. At least, what he thinks is a problem...

He doesn't realize his eyes get heavier and heavier as an hour, and another, and another pass, and he dozes off with the TV still on. Something he had broken the habit of doing with enough scoldings from the roseate he had tried to stay up for, despite her wish. There's drool sliding down his cheek and light snores rumbling in his chest. But he snaps awake when the front door opens and the light from the hall strikes his face, eyes bleary and slow to focus on the shape just outside the apartment.

Or rather, shapes.

Shock replaces confusion, but he stays laying down, narrowing his eyes and he observes the scene in front of him. Sakura doesn't look too far inside, doesn't notice him still on the couch. And neither does the man there with her—the dark haired, angular faced man with the long hair. He's familiar, and it takes Naruto a long moment of peeking to remember why.

They're talking to low whispers, Sakura and Uchiha Itachi, but not low enough so he can't hear—after all, he's not supposed to be there. She's thanking him for dinner, and he's asking her to lunch the day after next, and she's then she's agreeing. Her easy acceptance sparks a flare of hostility in the blonde's chest. Since when did she go out on dates?

He's still watching carefully when Itachi leans in, and Naruto half expects Sakura to move away. But she doesn't, and then the Uchiha's lips press to her cheek and he's wearing a slight smile as he wishes her good night and leaves. Still watching through cracked lids as she watches him until he's turned the corner, and then closes the door, walking straight to her room.

She doesn't even see him on the couch, and that bothers him almost more than the fact she let that slimebag (of course, he doesn't know if he really is one or not) kiss her; even on the cheek. Because she always wakes him up if he falls asleep on the couch before she gets back in, and scolds him and swats him for doing it. Always.

Except for the time she's too occupied thinking about her new _boyfriend _to bother to even look around.

He leaves it alone though, the next day. He doesn't bring up the fact he knows who she was with, since she apparently didn't want to tell, or that he feels betrayed by her. Because that _would _be starting a problem, and also make her angry that he was spying on her—or at least that's how she'd probably take it. She doesn't say anything to him that morning except to tell him to take out the trash before he leaves for class, continuing on her merry way without a second glance.

It's too late to say anything about what had happened now—she had a boyfriend, though it took her another two weeks to admit it to him. And not even of her own volition. But when Itachi showed up to the apartment with a fancy bouquet of roses as a surprise for Sakura and found a very annoyed Naruto in her place, an explanation was demanded on the Uchiha's part—Naruto stood easy for his half, only offering the intruder of his domain a glare and a tight smile as they were formally introduced.

He can't deny that she seems happy enough—she comes home from their dates smiling and cheerful, and raves over the phone about how good he is to her, making sure to constantly check in and ask her what she thinks and all of this other _bullshit _that makes the blonde seethe. The weasel left a bad taste in his mouth, and every time he got a glimpse of the Uchiha, the urge to punch him in the face rose. Of course he would _never_ say as much, and just watches as Sakura goes on with the relationship, using all the time that had formerly been _theirs _to go out with her new _boyfriend._

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><p><em>AN: OH LOOK I WROTE SOMETHING. Nah, I've been working on a bunch of shit recently, so I'll prolly... like... spam shit soon. YAY. Anyway, shut up I had this mostly written ages ago but only just added the last like 300 words today. :'D<em>


	3. He Kisses Her

_The first time he kisses her, it's to comfort her._

He knows that her relationship with Itachi is on the rocks, and that they're fighting more often than not. He doesn't need to be told to know that. The way she's acting is evidence enough. She's snappy and looks tired all the time, constantly trying to distract her hands so she doesn't hit something, cleaning and baking and cleaning some more. At least the apartment is spotless, he laughs to himself.

But if he were to be honest, he's laughing for more reasons than that. Naruto hates the Uchiha prick; maybe not for his personality, or for what he's done or has, but he hates him. The few times they've met he's acted docile and charming, but only because he knows that's what Sakura wants of him and of course he'll do that no matter what. He doesn't think he's ever felt so absolutely negatively for someone as he does Itachi (unless the old lady who lived next to him when he was a kid counts, but she was just mean).

So every time she walks through the front door, scowling and ready to wreck the furniture she spent so long picking and organizing, he offers her a smile and makes a pot of tea, because he knows that helps her to calm down. The tea, not the smile. The smile he can't help. And she rants to him about the stupid things Itachi does, like staying at work ridiculously late until he's too tired to spend time with her, wanting her to spend as much time as possible with his mother (who always talks about marriage and family, apparently), always calling her pet names, putting the milk at his apartment back into the fridge when there's only a sip left...

All things that Naruto knows that she hates, but of course, would never tell the elder Uchiha about. Because that would mean helping their relationship. And though he wasn't sabotaging, per se...

At least he wasn't planning on it.

It's the 'happy' couple's seven month anniversary, and Naruto dozes on the couch while he watches some cop show. It doesn't matter what it's about, because just about all of his senses are dulled by the time the clock reads 11:34 PM. As far as he knows, some guy is dead, some cops are looking for the killer, and the killer of course turns out to be the creepy dude they interviewed first and let go. He was good at calling that kind of stuff. And that's how he had spent his night. Watching TV, with some bits of video gaming between shows. A typical Saturday, yes.

The front door swings open, the handle striking into the wall before rebounding, shutting itself. The opener is already inside, and she doesn't even bother to turn on the light as she storms through the apartment to her room, closing her door with a vicious slam.

Naruto sits up on the couch and wipes sleep away from his wide-open eyes. The fact she let the door swing open like that was evidence enough that she was _beyond _pissed. She hated it when he did it, because he hadn't fixed the door stopper yet and it made a dent in the wall. He wouldn't be surprised if there was a gaping _hole, _with how hard she had forced it open.

The blonde stands, and walks over to her door quietly; he really hadn't been expecting her to come home, since she had informed him she would staying the night at Itachi's. He can hear her muttering, angry and rushed, as she paces across the soft carpet she had thrown over the wooden planks of her room's floor.

A smug smirk tugs at his mouth, and he feels a brief bout of triumph. Ha! Whatever Itachi had done this time, he had really fucked up. Maybe it was so bad that—

Something inside her room crashes, the sound of glass shattering painfully audible through the door and walls. Naruto darts forward and yanks open the door to see her picking up another breakable item from her bookshelf—a porcelain cat figurine that he had gotten her for her birthday. Before she can throw it or even really register that he's in the room with her, he's closed the distance between them and grabbed her wrist, the other hand rising to cup around the gift.

Her eyes widen in angry surprise, and her arm jerks in his grasp, but he's stronger and only pulls it down from above her head.

"What the fuck are you doing? Let go!" she practically shrieks at him. But he doesn't, even as she tries to pull away from him.

"What happened?" he asks her softly, a sharp contrast to her loud fury. Her struggles die off a bit, and she looks to the side, hurt and the blazing rage very clear in her eyes.

"He wants me to be something I'm not—something I don't _want _to be. He wants me to be _less like a man _and to stop trying so hard to prove myself and to rely on him more and be more dependent and he wants me to give up who I am! He's just like all the others! He... I'm not good enough for him."

His larger hands coax the figurine from hers, and he sets it back onto the bookshelf. Now that her rampage has been stopped, and her emotions allowed to catch up to her, tears are beginning to stream down her face. The sight brings both anger and sadness to his chest, anger at a person he barely knows, and sadness at his Sakura's state.

Naruto wraps his arms around her, and he can feel her hands on his chest, exerting a little pressure—as if to try and push him away. But he makes a soft hushing sound into her hair, and then she relaxes, burying her face into the soft fabric of his t-shirt. Her smaller frame shakes against his, and he can feel the wetness soaking through as she really starts to cry.

If it were up to him, he would go out and castrate the Uchiha this instant—but his Sakura needed him more.

They stay that way for a bit longer, until she's able to sniffle back the sobs and take deep breaths in and out. He pulls away for a second to look her in the eye, the jade red-rimmed. His brow furrows, and after a moment he presses his lips to her forehead, a gesture that she leans into once she realizes what he's doing.

"You're perfect the way you are, Sakura-chan," he whispers, and she smiles.


End file.
